


Exceptional Circumstances

by Beleriandings



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anxiety, Gen, Panic Attacks, Platonic Relationships, Post Series, Protective yurio, everyone gets hugged, familial type relationships, parallels and contrasts with canon, st petersburg, the grumpy kitten is learning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-24
Updated: 2017-03-24
Packaged: 2018-10-10 05:14:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10429929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beleriandings/pseuds/Beleriandings
Summary: However Yuri had intended this evening to go after finishing practice, it was not like this. Still, he supposed when he had heard the sounds of choked-off, swallowed sobs coming from the unused locker room furthest from the rink entrance, he should maybe have taken it as a sign. [Prompt: Yuuri & Yurio, (platonic) kiss on the forehead.]





	

 

However Yuri had intended this evening to go after finishing practice, it was not like this.

Still, he supposed when he had heard the sounds of choked-off, swallowed sobs coming from the unused locker room furthest from the rink entrance, he should maybe have taken it as a sign, he thought regretfully.

He should probably have left well alone and gone home; maybe quietly texted Viktor first. That probably would have been a better idea. Probably for both of them, in fact. Certainly, any of that would have been better than what he’d actually done, which was to burst through the doors and find himself faced - once again - with a sobbing, hunched over Katsuki Yuuri, who was clearly trying desperately hard to regulate his breathing. That sounded painful, Yuri thought.

Yes, Yuri thought next, he certainly should have left while he had the chance.

But - of course - he hadn’t, and here he was.

“Uh…. okay. Okay….” said Yuri, awkwardly touching Yuuri’s shoulder, changing his mind, and pulling his hand back as though he’d been burned as Yuuri leaned forward, his head almost touching the bench between his knees as he breathed fast and unevenly.

“Uh… K-Katsudon, you’d better be okay until Viktor gets back, hear me? He’ll….” Yuri felt his own voice starting to falter as he watched Yuuri stare, blank-eyed, at the ground and bite down on his lip. “Viktor will… ah…” what _would_ Viktor do in this situation? Yuri found, to his dismay, that he had no idea. He cast a sidelong glance at Yuuri, who was still leaning forward, almost doubled over where he sat. His hands were clenched into fists on his knees and his hair was falling over his face, hiding his expression from Yuri.

_Was this just… normal for him?_ Yuri felt a pang of pain go through him, as he realised he had no idea. He had known for a while now - in a vague, distant sense - that Yuuri had anxiety. Once, soon after Yuuri had moved in with Viktor he had been at their house for dinner and seen the prescription on the hall table, pinned down by Yuuri’s keys and a selection of loose change. He had googled the name of what Yuuri had been prescribed later, out of curiosity. So, he knew. But he had never seen… whatever _this_ was before. Not like this.

Or maybe he had, when Yuuri had cried in the bathroom that time in Sochi, so long ago now… he felt a surprising stab of guilt, for that. He couldn’t see Yuuri’s face, but he heard shuddering, stifled sobs and saw a few tears splash onto the tiles beside Yuuri’s sock-clad feet.

And Yuri found himself completely, horribly, at a loss. _Viktor!_ he screamed inside his head. _Answer your fucking phone!_ Of all the times this could happen… Yakov had taken Viktor to get his new costume fitted today, _but what a time for Viktor’s phone to die_ …

Yuuri’s back was shuddering now, but he managed to turn his head to look at Yuri, who promptly pulled his hand away from where it had been hovering in indecision above Yuuri’s shoulder again, not sure whether it would make things better or worse.

“I’m… sorry…” Yuuri got out. “I’ll be okay, Yurio, you d-don’t need to…. ah… you can go… you don’t need to stay… I’ll be…. I’ll be alright…”

“No! Don’t you try and pull that shit on me… I won’t fall for it!” blurted Yuri, poking Yuuri’s arm, hard. There were tears at the corners of his own eyes now and he scrubbed at them furiously with his sleeve. He relented a little, at the sight of Yuuri’s red-rimmed eyes widening a little, the slight flinch. “Ah… uh… do you want me to…. go get Lilia?” She was probably still here, even if Yakov was out with Viktor. He didn’t really think Mila or Georgi would be much help either. But even that was grasping at straws.

Apparently it _had_ been the wrong thing to say. “N-n-no!” stammered Yuuri, waving his hands desperately in the air between them. Yuuri looked utterly horror-stricken. “No… Yurio, p-please don’t… this is so _stupid_ , please don’t bother her…”

_The only thing that’s stupid about this is me_ , thought Yuri, with gritted teeth. Why didn’t he know what to do about this? He glared at Yuuri, taking a deep breath. “Do you… um…. want to… talk about it…?”

That made Yuuri’s stop midway through the forced breathing that he seemed to be doing, turning his head to look at Yuri. He looked blank. “Talk….?”  

“Yeah. What made you…. ah…. if you want…” Yuri could feel himself floundering here, and it only made him more upset. “Why are you crying?”

Yuuri’s breath hitched, and he looked away, mumbling something unintelligible as he dropped his face into his hands.

“…..Huh?”

“It’s not going to be ready in time!” burst out Yuuri, his hands dropping to clench in the fabric of his sweats, before he let go, spinning his golden ring around his finger with his thumb, distractedly. It was a habit Yuuri had developed, Yuri had noticed; now though, he was doing it at several times his usual rate, apparently without conscious thought.

Yuri frowned. “What?”

“My updated short program! I’ve got so much more practice that I…! I should have done! And Worlds is only a month from now, and there’s _Viktor_ …. I’m taking away from his practice time, and I shouldn’t be doing that, it’s not _fair_ on him, he’s supposed to be learning to love skating again and… and…” he choked out another breath, staring back at Yuuri with slightly glazed eyes, as though seeing him for the first time, or not seeing him at all. “I’m _scared_ , Yurio. Of making him hate it. And of being… a drain on him, dragging him back… I hate doing that… s-so much…”  

Yuri scowled back at him. “Well, fuck Viktor!” he shouted, his voice cracking a little, the sound reverberating on the tiled walls of the unused locker room. “He can look after himself, I say.” He poked Yuuri in the chest. “What about you, huh?”

Yuuri blinked. “Y-Yurio…”

“If you can stop thinking about Viktor for just one second, you’d be able to see enough to know that your short program is… really good! So’s your free skate!” he hissed, feeling his face turn scarlet. Still, there would be time for eternal shame later; right now, Yuuri was still upset. He forced himself to carry on. “And so’s Viktor’s. That dumbass is probably trying to sweet-talk Yakov into letting him wear even _more_ sparkles right now…. how would he feel if he knew you were here crying over him, huh?”

He risked a glance at Yuuri, wondering if he’d made things worse. In truth, it was difficult to tell; Yuuri simply looked blank, and more than a little stunned.

“You don’t need to look so fucking shocked!” grumbled Yuri.

Yuuri blinked a few times. “I’m just… ah….”

And then, to Yuri’s surprise and alarm, he felt Yuuri’s arms go around him, holding him close. “Yurio!” he said, muffled by the fabric of Yuri’s hoodie.

Yuri stiffened for a moment at the hug, but now he squirmed. Though not too much. He had to admit, this was… somewhat nice. … _And had he really just let that thought cross his mind?_  He huffed. “What the hell, Katsudon?”

Yuuri’s back was shuddering with sobs again, and Yuri felt a jolt of alarm, until he realised they were… different, somehow. At the very least they didn’t feel like the choked, fearful tears and shallow gasping for painful-sounding breaths of earlier. For some reason, now he felt like even though Yuuri might cry an entire ocean of tears on him - and sure enough, the leopard-print fleece was getting rather damp at his shoulder - that the worst was over. For some reason. He could, of course, be totally wrong, but…

“Th-thank you, Yurio” mumbled Yuuri. “You…” he drew a long, shuddering breath. “You didn’t have to say that.”

Yuri sighed. “Yes” he said, very quietly. “I did.” Well, if he hadn’t already fucked this up, then maybe he could still save it. Cautiously, he raised his arms, putting them in turn around Yuuri’s shaking back, rubbing a slow circle between his shoulder blades; he had seen Viktor do that at the small of Yuuri’s back once, but with the awkward way they were sitting he couldn’t really reach that far, so this would have to do.

_Besides, that was probably Viktor’s thing to do; Yuuri might find that weird. In fact, Yuuri might find all of this weird; Yuri certainly did._ And yet still he carried on holding onto Yuuri as Yuuri cried himself out. Eventually, Yuuri quieted a little, and Yuri found himself leaning his head forward so his face was against Yuuri’s forehead. Slowly, Yuuri’s breathing became more measured and even, his sobs tailing away to nothing, as a strange sort of tranquility - of all things - descended. It didn’t take much for him to kiss Yuuri’s forehead, just below the hairline; he wasn’t sure Yuuri had even noticed, a fact for which Yuri was, on reflection, rather glad. He didn’t want to be setting a precedent or anything; these were exceptional circumstances.  

That was how some time later Viktor - phone in hand, hair a windblown mess and face filled with pain and fear - found them, slamming through the double doors with a sound that cut through the hush that had descended over the locker room, Makkachin at his heels. It made Yuri jump a little, lifting his head abruptly from the top of Yuuri’s. Viktor froze, as he met Yuri’s eye; whatever he saw in his face had made his eyes widen, expression passing from worry to shock to confusion to a slightly teary smile, then back to worry again, as Yuuri raised his head too.  

“ _Yuuri!_ ” gasped Viktor. “Yurio! Ah… I got your text…. Yuuri, are you okay?”

Yuri was about to yell at Viktor to be quiet, but already, Yuuri was holding a hand out to Viktor, who bounded over and threw himself eagerly down on the bench beside Yuuri; Makkachin leapt across all three of their laps a moment later, making Yuuri wince as dirty snow-melt water soaked into his legs. Viktor fussed over Yuuri, apologies and words of love tumbling from his mouth all at once.

“Viktor!” protested Yuuri, his eyes glimmering with tears again. But now, a small smile was on his face too. “Viktor. I’m fine! And…” Yuuri leaned forward, and - quite to his surprise - kissed Yuri on the forehead, just as Yuri had done to him a moment before. Even as Yuri let out a squeak of surprised indignation, Yuuri carried on, “it’s because of Yurio. He… really surprised me.”

Viktor’s eyes went very wide, and then, his face crumpled, and he burst into tears, pulling Yuuri, Yuri, and Makkachin into a damp, awkwardly positioned, but very tight hug.

For once though, Yuri simply let himself be held, not trying to avoid it.

_After all,_ he thought. _These were exceptional circumstances._    

 


End file.
